Blood magic is not evil. Blood magic is not good. Blood magic is realistic. For every action every living thing takes, a price must be paid. To eat in the winter, you must work in the summer. To feed your family, you must purchase a sheep. To defend your village, you must slaughter your enemy.
There is always a price to be paid. By the sweat of your brow, the coin in your pocket, or the blood in your veins, the cost must be met.
Spells, potions, incantations, all of it comes at a cost. Power alienates the fearful. You risk losing pieces of your soul when you delve into the dark. Your very life can be at stake when performing these rituals. All of this is the cost greatness demands. Blood Magic holds no illusions that magic is easy or benign, and those who seek knowledge from these pages must adopt a morality apart. You will stray from the world and all you know. You will damn what you once held dear and be damned by it. This is but the first price you pay.
Blood is currency. The act of presenting this most vital part of oneself as payment shows an understanding that you will give everything of yourself.
from “Blood Magic: The Price” in Catherine Schade’s black grimoire
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